Malachite

Hidden in the deepest corners of the Ashfall Waste, where only the bravest of souls wondered and where weaklings fell, was a clan, harsh as stone with nothing but ice in their hearts and fire in their eyes, where nothing was deemed fair, and all was seen only through the movement of battle, a small snapper hatched, weak with seemingly no power. As he was trained alongside the others, he found himself with nothing but shame and disappointed thrown upon him his whole life, for his terrible heavy body, where swiftness and quick attacks would not be doable, for his lack of strength. He was deemed weak, they were harsh on him, not letting him rest until his frame collapsed. The words they sang, the chants of degeneracy, may he keep a stone face, but all the words pronounced hit him in his core being, piling up into the slowly boiling pit of fiery flames, where anger flares higher than all. They never believed he’d get anywhere, yet the day came where his rage finally took hold of his rational side, and he’d soon become the monster he found himself to be nowadays. Up in high points of the volcanoes, thrived a monster, where all to challenged to fought him never came back. No one believed the snapper would actually go and fight it, but they were proven wrong when with confident steps, he strode to the monster. When he faced the monster, the anger which piled up within him spilled out, breaking out a ferocious battle. May he had fell down with one powerful bite, it only fuelled him more to behead the creature, with the single bite of his claw. As it fell a pride filled his whole being, not even the infection slowly overcoming his body faltered his pride. His skin melted as mushrooms grew. Malachite returned to the clan with the head of the beast, dropping in in front of them before moving away, to thrive someplace else.

Everything changed once he found the Molten Scar clan’s coliseum, whenever they hosted tournaments, he’d win ease, he was like a beast. It didn’t take long for Kalfu to recognize his power, soon offering him a place to stay and money if he trained other for the coliseum. Agreeing so, he soon ruthlessly started to train youngers to fight in the arena. Each of those who were taught under his wing came out powerful, but yet, no one matched the strength he held. Not even the infection who overcame his body, making his ribs vulnerable and mushrooms growing from his body, did he seem any weaker.

Malachite came from nothing, to soon being a powerful warrior taking apprentices under his claws.

Written by tacotquila https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=userpage&id=497217